The John She Knows
by Lanaa Taurof
Summary: A story of the John Connor that Cameron knows, loves, and would go to any length to protect. Even if that means leaving him.
1. Leaving

**Disclaimer: **None of these characters belong to me. They belong to their respective writers, creators, and studios. I am merely using them for a brief moment to do a little creative venting. Please don't sue. I don't have enough money to bother. Thanks bunches.

**Gravitas: **Feel free to comment. Good or bad. I can take constructive criticism. Thank you for reading.

**Author's Note:** This story has developed a life of its own in my head. I had every intention of this being a simple one shot story. Now, it seems, the story has developed into a series of one shots. Keep in mind, that the end of every story is the possible end to the series. If the story keeps nagging at me, I'll keep adding. I promise. I hope you enjoy.

* * *

**The John She Knows**

Cameron walked through the dirty hallway, aware but not bothered by the condemning looks sent her way. These humans fail to understand the relationship between she and John Connor. Every one of them would give their life for him, but they failed to understand why she would kill every one of them to protect John.

Machines take orders. They may see a situation logistically and realize their exercise is futile, but they follow their orders without question. Most likely, the machine will be destroyed in the process of performing its task. This is of little consequence, however, because the mission given to the machine will have been accomplished. Its purpose will have been served.

That is what makes Cameron different than all the other machines the members of the resistance have ever encountered. She listens to John, takes his orders and follows them completely, but if a situation should arise where she had to disobey John in order to save him, she would do it. Not only must she protect John, but she must also ensure her own survival. Not trusting anyone or anything other than herself to watch over the leader of all humankind.

Cameron stopped in front of the shelter designated to John. He hated this room and its steel casing. It would take any machine decades to break through the exterior, no matter what sort of explosives or prying device was used. That was why Cameron had chosen it. The soldier standing before the door was present simply to make runs to commanders if John required it, but he took his job seriously. When Cameron stopped before him he nodded and stepped aside.

"Thank you, Riley," Cameron said with a smile.

"You're welcome, Cameron," the gruff, battle worn man responded. He was too old and battered to serve in the field anymore, but he needed to be involved, so John had given him this position. Other than John, he was the only human who treated Cameron like anything other than a machine. Riley saw her as a soldier.

"Seal it behind me, sergeant. Take the rest of the evening for yourself. No need to stand here like a sentinel any longer." She winked as she passed him.

Smiling in response, he said, "Yes, ma'am."

The heavy doors slid slowly open, powered by internal hydraulics that could not be accessed from the outside. Cameron was very proud of this creation. It was one of her best.

Upon entering, and turning briefly to watch as the doors slid closed, Cameron located John. She found John in a back room, studying the scout reports gathered yesterday. As she approached John, he looked up and she saw the skin around his eyes wrinkle in amusement.

"What are you smiling at, John Connor?" Cameron asked, humor in her voice.

"I can tell when you're analyzing me for physical or emotional stress, Cam. Your eyes glow," he lifted his hand and smoothed a perfect eyebrow.

"You know I always do a perfunctory examination when I arrive, John. I don't trust you to behave yourself when I'm not around." John's deep laugh brought a bright smile to Cameron's face.

This was something else so many fail to understand. Cameron is very capable of feeling emotion. When she chooses, she feels very deeply.

SkyNet set about building Cameron as an experiment. It would create a terminator unlike any other. One with a processor so advanced it allowed the machine to feel stimulation and emotion like a human being. This, it thought, would allow the terminator to go farther than any other in destroying John Connor.

SkyNet gave her a name, it provided her a woman's body, and it set her about her task. Infiltrate the resistance, gather as much intelligence as possible, and when a complete schematic is formed, terminate John Connor and return to home base.

It was a perfect plan. A machine created for this job would not fail.

What SkyNet had not foreseen was that their creation would cherish John Connor. He is unlike any other human. He understands the machine and all its flaws.

He had not known Cameron was a terminator until she said to him, "John Connor, I have failed my mission."

He had laughed at her and said, "Cam, you don't fail at anything."

"I have failed at this, John. I cannot complete my mission. I have found it illogical." She watched as he turned, suspicion now clouding his features. "I find that I must stay with you, John."

"Why are you talking like this?" His head shook, denying what his brain had already told him was the truth.

Cameron was very capable of speaking and acting in such a manner that she was undetectable. Her speech was never stilted like a machine's. She did not speak with unnerving verbiage that betrayed a computer's logistic vocabulary instead of a learned speech pattern that developed with human interaction.

At this moment, however, she was a machine. Revealing herself to the quarry she had been assigned.

"John, you know what I am." She allowed the blue sensors behind human eyes to flare, identifying herself to John finally.

John stood very still. Staring for the longest time. He was so distracted that he failed to notice the soldiers enter behind him. When the men saw the glow of her eyes they drew their weapons and took aim. In a blur of motion, John found himself seated and Cameron standing in front of him taking fire. What the hell was going on around here?

"Cease fire!" He shouted, "Dammit, stop shooting those guns!!" When the bullets stopped, he stepped around Cameron and said, "Have you assholes lost your minds?!" Turning his attention to Cameron he found her expression could only be described as sad. Did machines feel sadness? A few minutes ago he wouldn't have thought about it that way, but knowing what he knew now, it seemed crazy to think that a machine would feel emotion.

"Is it simulated?" He asked her.

"All emotion is simulated, John. It is simply a set of circumstances that result in the firing of brain synapses, creating a physical reaction." She watched him, awaiting his verdict, and was surprised when he turned and began to address his men.

"It's okay, gentlemen. Looks like we got us our very own terminator. That right, Cam?" He asked her, directly.

"No, John. That's not true. I have assigned myself only to you." She saw his eyebrows draw together in confusion as he attempted to make sense of that.

"Why me and not any of them," he asked, as he gestured toward the men behind him. "I'm no different than they are."

"That's not true." It was all she had ever really said on the subject as to why she was loyal only to John.

Now, here they stood in a room Cameron had commissioned shortly after that fateful day. It would keep even her out if it had to.

She lifted a hand and stroked the face of the man before her. He stood still while she assured herself that he was fine. That nothing had happened while she was out performing tasks for him. As she computed all the information a simple touch brought to her, a wary expression passed over her face. He sighed and waited for her questions.

"John, what is it?" He knew she was a machine, but he'd never really thought of her that way. Not even after she had told him that's exactly what she was. He pulled her with him, sitting on what could be described as a couch. It's rough cushions as comfortable as could be expected, given that they were living in a post nuclear holocaust.

"I need you to do something for me, Cam. Only you can do it. You're the only one I trust." His eyes told her of his earnest plea. Eyes that were far older than the years of the man, having seen and suffered too much. She waited for him to continue.

"The scouts say SkyNet has sent one back. They mean to finish what they failed last time. All we did was push it back a few years, but if they can kill me this time --" He let his voice trail off. "They sent one back to 1999. I need you to prepare a team to go back there and keep me alive."

"It's not safe to leave you here, John. If I'm there I can't be here." She was shaking her head as she said this, as though to make sense of it all.

"Cam, you know as well as I do that if I'm dead then, I'm dead now. I won't be here to protect if it finds me and kills me." He took her hand and pulled her close, leaning back so that they were stretched out on the couch. Cameron settled herself into her favorite position, ear above John's heart, listening to the rhythmic cadence she could identify from nearly a hundred yards.

"I don't want to leave," he heard her whisper.

"I know, Cam." He stroked her glossy hair. "If we're lucky, it'll be a short trip. You'll go, destroy it, and come on back. We have to be thorough, though. My mother will still be alive. She'll take some convincing. Use me against her. She'll give in if it keeps me safe." When she didn't respond he continued, as though to placate an insecure lover. "Look at it on the bright side, Cam. You'll get to see me at sixteen."

At this, she lifted her head and looked at him as though he'd lost his mind. "Are you the same as you are now?"

He sighed and shook his head. "No, only my mother was as I am now."

"I won't know this John," she said.

"No, not at first. You'll figure it out quickly. You always do." Pressing his lips lightly to her forehead he continued, "All I need you to do, Cameron, is make sure I stay alive. You don't answer to them. Hell, you don't answer to me now, but at least I've got some say. Don't let my mother or me order you around."

She continued to look into his eyes as she said, "Keep you alive."

"Yeah, just keep me safe until you're sure you can come back."

Looking sternly at him she stated bluntly, "This won't stop it, you know."

"I know. That's why I didn't ask you to stop it." He watched as she began to understand.

"I'll keep you alive until I can come back." Now it was she who pressed her lips to his. "I'll need to make sure I'm created, John. It does us no good for me to be destroyed before I'm made."

"Do what you have to, Cameron. I trust you."

"Thank you, John."

They continued to talk about the plan for the rest of the night. The following day she would leave with the understanding that a team would soon follow to build everything she would need to protect John. There would also be a means of her return once she had completed her mission.

As Cameron stood in the beginnings of an electrical field that would transport her away from the John she knew, taking her to a boy whom she did not, she held on to the memory of eyes that would miss her.

The woman known as Cameron would become dormant; replaced by a machine who waits to return to the man she loves.


	2. Dreams

**Author's note:** This is the second one shot story/chapter in the series "The John She Knows." All stories link together and exist in each other's universe.

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**Dreams**

2007

She stood over him, watching to make sure his breathing was regular and that his vital signs were within parameters.

He was dreaming.

She wondered what it must be like to dream. It wasn't the first time she had wondered. As she thought of the time she had asked John about dreams, a smile came to her lips. This smile went unseen by the sleeping boy who would grow into a man to which she had dedicated her very existence.

* * *

2027 

John opened his eyes sluggishly, raising a hand to rub the sleep away. As he rolled onto his back, he noticed the figure seated at the foot of the bed. If, that is, what he was laying on could be mistaken for a bed. He remembered a time when he would have looked at a mattress laid atop cement blocks as the farthest thing in the world from a real bed. That was a long time ago.

Laying his head back on the pillow and staring at the stained ceiling above he said, "Cameron."

"Yes, John?" Cameron always answered her own name with that question. At least she always answered that way when he said her name. Anyone else was either ignored or simply acknowledged with a look. She had only begun this habit after revealing herself as a terminator. He wondered why.

"Don't you think people would warm up to you better if you treated them more like you treat me?" He pushed himself up on his elbows as to watch the myriad of expressions skitter across her face. He wasn't disappointed. They started with confusion and ended in amusement.

"They'll never warm up to me, John." The smile faded as she continued, "They don't like me anymore." Using the voice of one of the women who lived within the resistance she said, "I hate her."

"They don't hate you, Cam." Bundling up the blanket that served as his pillow, he sat himself up against a wall the bed lay against.

"Yes, they do. I hear them use the word. I would recount for you the precise number of times it has been spoken in reference to myself, but I know that bothers you." He chuckled at her, despite his unease with the subject matter. He really did hate it when she told him the exact number of something. Even though that ability had saved his and countless other asses on many occasions. "It's okay, John. It doesn't bother me. They have every right to despise us."

"That's just it. You're not **them**." He arced his arm, gesticulating toward unseen terminators which had been reprogrammed and resided within the barracks. He watched as Cameron rose from her seat and moved to sit next to him. Lifting her hand, but stopping it an inch from his face, she waiting for permission to touch. When his nearly imperceptible nod granted that permission she touched him, slowly skimming her fingers down to the pulse in his neck. As she did this, the lids covering her brown eyes closed.

"Shhh. It's all right." She opened her eyes, smiling gently at him. "Only one opinion matters to me. That's why I only answer to you. They are weak and uncertain. What they think has no affect on me."

John shook his head and sighed heavily. "You were watching me sleep again."

"Yes," she said. "You were dreaming."

"Yeah. It's been so long since I've seen what it used to look like." He paused, his eyes taking on a far away look. "When I dream I'm not sure if it's a good or bad thing." He rubbed his eyes again, as though trying to rub the images from his mind.

"What is it like to dream?" Cameron asked.

He looked at her expectant face, knowing that describing a dream to her would be akin to describing a sunset to the blind. The telling would be rudimentary, and he knew she couldn't fully understand. "Most of the time they're nothing. Just the brain trying to make sense of everything. Images all jumbled together with faces you don't even remember seeing. You're not missing anything, Cam."

She nodded. "Would you prefer I stop watching you sleep?"

The question surprised him. Cameron had been staying with him well over a year now, and had been involved in the resistance for six months longer. She didn't sleep, and preferred to stay with him while he slept. It was safer, she said. While there was usually plenty to occupy herself with, occasionally she would leave her work and sit quietly next to him while getting the few hours of sleep he allowed himself. At first her quiet study had been disconcerting, but eventually he stopped registering her presence.

Well, that's not true.

Subconsciously he knew there was someone in the room, but he was no longer wary of the fact that a terminator was in a room with him in his most vulnerable state. He slept better, knowing he was safe. She would wake him if there was danger, and when he was truly exhausted she negotiated with his lieutenants on his behalf.

The negotiating had been a problem at first. Men, who had been perfectly willing to take orders from a woman, refused to take orders from the machine they now knew her to be. He knew they didn't trust her, but they trusted him. Grudgingly, they let it go.

A long moment had passed since her question, but she sat quietly, awaiting his answer. He could tell her a lie. That he preferred she didn't watch him. She would stop immediately, simply following his wishes, but he knew it would hurt her.

"No. It's fine, Cameron." Waving his hand, he dismissed the subject. "I don't mind." He could tell she was pleased. "What time is it?" He asked.

"It is 5:48, Wednesday, the 26th of September, in the year 2027." Her head turned quizzically to the side when he laughed at her.

"Cam, you really have to stop doing that. When somebody asks you for the time, give them the time. Not the tilt of the earth and their current latitude," chuckling, he walked out of the room and into the greater common room. "It's amazing you were able to blend in as long as you did."

"I fooled you, John Connor," she said, gloatingly. She laughed as the smile disappeared from his face and changed to one of mock consternation.

"That," he said, pointing a finger toward her, "is not the point." His smile returned as he listened to her laugh. "Your speech patterns did change a little when you declared yourself. You have to admit that."

"I have found that they are more accepting of me if I behave as the others." She knew her response wasn't what he wanted to hear.

"We've already had this argument. You're not like the others and we both know it." Moving to a small table covered in paper, which was becoming increasingly more difficult to find, he sat and continued talking. "When you're around me, I'd prefer you how you were programmed. Blend in. Act normal. Okay?"

"I can do that," she replied.

"I know you can."

* * *

2007 

John's eyes flickered open and he jumped slightly in surprise. "Dammit, Cameron." He relaxed into the bed somewhat before saying, "Why are you in here? I'm asleep! You can't sit around watching people sleep. It's not normal."

He watched as she smiled. "You don't mind," she said, walking away.

Sighing in frustration he muttered to himself, "**He** doesn't mind." Eventually, he supposed, he would find out why it was that the leader of the resistance against SkyNet was so very comfortable with the terminator who currently resided with a sixteen-year-old boy.


	3. Home

**Author's note: **This is the third one shot story/chapter in the series "The John She Knows." All stories link together and exist in each other's universe.

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**Home**

I want to go home.

The thought, unimpeded, ran through her mind. Her original programming from SkyNet had been done too well. John's programming had made it worse. She felt too much.

She wondered what John looked like now. He would be nearly eight years younger than when she had left him, now a man of thirty-six.

Every experience she shared with his younger self was now remembered by the older. Negative and positive alike. If she went home now, would things have changed so much that she found herself not existing in the memories of the man, merely those of the adolescent?

These thoughts plagued her. As did the worry of John unprotected in the future. She knew he had men and machines surrounding him, all doing their very best to ensure his safety.

It wasn't enough, though. It would be different if she was there. Safer.

She knew him better than they did or ever would. His every movement and action were committed to memory. She remembered several occasions when John would turn to ask for something and, having foreseen his request, she would be standing there with whatever he needed. She smiled now, remembering how pleased he had been with her for that.

She remembered all the times he had _shown _her how pleased he was with her.

The recent destruction of the coltan alloy had been an issue. She knew Sarah and this John wanted it gone, but steps had to be taken to ensure she was created. Her John had made it clear that was a priority. Keep him safe, but also keep herself safe. It would do neither of them any good if she ceased to exist.

She supposed now, that instead of having met John as he approached forty-four years, she now would have met him at thirty-five. She knew, of course, that SkyNet and Cyber Research Systems had progressed at a rate allowing her creation. Otherwise she would not be here now. That comforted her, somewhat. The only variable preventing them was a diminished supply of coltan. The bar she had kept would surely ensure her creation.

It always nagged, though. The possibility that changing the past too severely would prevent her creation.

The thought bothered her more than she cared to dwell on. It was impossible to know these things. The inevitability of SkyNet was certain, but the other variables involved were too uncertain to predict.

Everything could be different. He would not know her. He would not cherish or love her.

The only way to know for certain would be to travel forward. Perhaps only for a little while. All she needed to do was see him. Prove to herself that everything was fine. She could get to the transporter in 14.34 hours. Sarah could watch over her John for a few days. As soon as she knew he was safe she would come right back.

Shaking her head in frustration, she dismissed the thought. Cromartie was still a threat. Leaving could be disastrous. Selfishness had no place in her mission. Even if the mission itself was based on that very thing. Keep John safe. Ensure he grew into the man he was destined to become.

He was a great man, of that she was certain. A great man she wanted to see. She wanted to see him. Right now.

I want to go home, she thought. I want to go home.


	4. Them

**Author's Note: **Thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed this story. I know it's been quiet a long time, but it took awhile for something worthwhile to find its way to paper. This received its inspiration from the season three episode "Automatic For The People." I hope you enjoy this newest chapter.

* * *

_"Things have changed John. You can't be trusted anymore. You risked your life to fix me. That was a very dangerous thing to do. It could upset people."_

_"They'll have to deal with it."_

_"Not them."  
_

* * *

None of them understand.

I watch her save their lives, all the while I'm forced to treat her like a pet. Something loyal, but possibly dangerous, that I may one day have to put down. It doesn't matter that she's done more for us than a combination of any ten of them. She's metal, and no matter what she does, one day she'll have to be destroyed.

They're right about one thing. She is metal. What they don't know, and will most likely never see, is that she's human in ways so many of them have forgotten. It's been too long since they did anything other than fight for their lives.

Knowledge and experience are something of which Cameron has an abundance the former and an enormous lack of the latter. Simulated knowledge of an act down to the minutest of details is all well and good, but if you've never seen or felt it, it might as well be a fairytale.

She knew so much when she came to us. How to break into our ranks undetected. What it would take to earn our trust. When the right moment would arise to destroy everything we had worked so hard to acquire.

Cameron arrived with the knowledge that if she terminated me her mission would be complete. Every terminator walking this planet's sole purpose is to complete their mission; the mission given to them by SkyNet. There is nothing else.

Late at night when I can't sleep, she tells me about all the times she watched me. Her mission, she tells me, was to learn everything she could about the leader of the Resistance. The more they knew now, the easier it would be to stop me in the past.

Humans are predictable. At least most them are. It was what saved me: lack of predictability. Days went by, then weeks. Soon a pattern would arise to my actions, thought processes, and then she would terminate me.

She can tell me the exact moment in time she made the decision to override her mission. Down to the microsecond. I had been standing alone, as far away from my men as I had been day. It would have been so easy, she said. In fact, she probably could have killed me and escaped. The action to be taken was as clear and plainly defined as the sun rising in the east, but she couldn't do it.

Cameron declared herself to me then in a flash of cerulean. She took a few bullets for her trouble, but as I learned quickly, she heals at a rate any soldier would kill for. It was after it was discovered that she was a terminator that the problems began to arise.

My men, though they might trust me with their lives, do not trust her. She's too close to me, they said. She can't be allowed to roam unfettered, risking the lives of anyone she comes in contact with, most especially me.

Reprogramming was her idea. I paced around the bunker, shouting at her for even bringing it up, and she sat there quietly, allowing me to yell. We were the only ones in the bunker, as was usually the case, so my uncharacteristic behavior would go unobserved by those who would have no idea how to perceive me in such a state. Men weren't dying, soldiers did not require instruction, and there was certainly no reason to show such emotion over the reprogramming of nothing more than a machine.

"John," she had said quietly, "you know it's the only way they'll let me stay."

"They'll let you stay because I ordered it!" I exclaimed. "This isn't a democracy! It's war! I will not allow insubordination! I need you how you are, dammit. They'll either accept it or..."

"Or what?"

Furious, I kicked the chair against the wall, causing it to creak in protest. "I make the decisions here," I gritted out between my teeth.

"Yes, that is true, but you also have a chain of command. Who leads this army if you're killed?"

"Richardson," I spat. "You know that."

"Yes, and so does he. He hates everything about me." She stepped closer, moving carefully and calmly, as though I were a child in need of calming. "If you're not careful, John, you'll upset them. Without you they will fail, but emotion is involved now, and the negativity aimed at me will eventually spill over to you. I can't allow that."

"I said no and I meant it," I stated with an air of finality.

"I'm not asking that you wipe the chip, John. It's all a pretense, don't you see?" I shook my head, not understanding. "How many of them have seen you perform reprogramming? Not just seeing you work, but actually watching the entire process. They would need to know enough to recognize that you weren't actually changing anything." The comprehension on my face must have been drastic, because while before she had been concerned, now she smiled at me. "See, now you're getting it, Connor."

"Put on a show. That's what you want me to do."

"Exactly."

"What then?"

"You know perfectly well how capable I am of behaving how they expect me to."

"Like metal?"

"Yes."

I took a deep breath, all the while looking into the brown eyes so close to mine. "It's not half bad." She laughed, drawing a chuckle from me as well. Lifting my hand, I placed a stray piece of hair behind her ear. "I don't want you acting that way when we're alone, Cam. That needs to be understood."

She nodded, confirming my request before she said, "Understood, General. I'll always be myself with you. Only they will see the machine." I also nodded my confirmation. She continued by saying, "You have to promise me something, though."

"What?"

"Should I ever --" she paused, tilting her head slightly. "Should I ever malfunction," I was already shaking my head, forcing her to place a finger over my mouth to silence me, "I need you to swear it, John. If I go bad, there will be no saving me. It's the only way to keep you safe from these people."

I looked at her long and hard, our eyes warring. Finally I said, "I swear, should you ever go bad, that I will not do anything to place myself in danger from my men." I knew that wasn't what she wanted to hear. "It's the best I can do, Cameron. I'm sorry."

She leaned in close, pressing her forehead to my own. "I know." Kissing my cheek lightly she said, "We'll just have to make sure I never go bad, won't we?"

"Now you're making some sense," I replied gruffly.

In the end it had worked, just as she said it would. It amazed me how different she could act outside the walls of our bunker. Even her movements were stilted and robotic. Others forgot how human she could be.

Only I see the real Cameron and only she sees me.


End file.
